Possibilities
by Clocks Striking Thirteen
Summary: "Sure. Sure Diana would "open up", "tell the truth" and what ever other things it was that stupid people did." Rated T for mistresses, stalkers, blackmail, theft and suicide. Although only one mention of each.


Possibilities

_It's what she did, Diana- survive. And always with style. It was her special genius: being used, but always using back. Being abused, but then returning the abuse, with interest. And remaining, always, Diana, cool Diana._

Sure. Sure Diana would "open up", "tell the truth" and what ever other things it was that stupid people did. Blackmail, using people and holding information above people's heads were more her style. Like she would just give away weak sides to her.

_When I was ten years old, Jack, younger than you, I found out my father had a mistress. Do you know what a mistress is, Jack? So I told my mother about the mistress. I was mad at my father because he wouldn't get me a horse. My mom freaked out. Big scene between my mom and dad. Lots of screaming. My mom was going to get a divorce._

_Did they get a divorce?_

_No. There wasn't time. Next day my mom slipped and fell down the big staircase we have. She didn't die, but she can't really do anything anymore. She has a nurse full time, just has to lie there in her room._

_I'm sorry… It doesn't mean you're bad just because your mom got hurt in an accident._

_I told the police my dad did it. I told them I saw him push her. They arrested him, it was all over the news. Messed up his business. The cops finally realised I was lying. Dad sent me to Coates Acedemy, the end._

_And that's only part of the story._

Faced with a person like Jack- what was a person like Jack? Sweet, she supposed. In a weird kind of puppy like way, Naïve, Smart, Weak, Manipulated easily, Adoring -a strange mix, but something about his innocence made her actually want to tell the truth for once. Briefly. But the moment was gone in an instant, as quickly as it had come.

_And that's only part of the story._

Always keep an air of mystery. Her stories were good ones.

"Diana?" Caine murmured.

"Mmn."

"I've told you about me, what about you? Why are you at Coates? It can't just be for talking too much or something. What did you really do?" Caught off guard, she fumbled in her head for a story. Any story, but it would need to be a good one she could stick with.

"Why do you care?" She was stalling. Visibly.

"Diana. You know I care about you."

"I… what?" she was too busy thinking to really register his words. He thought he cared about her. Her, with so many different versions of herself she was barely a person. Impossible, obviously, but useful… this story was crucial to her power of manipulating him. Focus, focus she willed herself.

"It's funny you should say that about talking, Caine, but that came into it…"

_I was with my stepsister, Samia, shopping for jeans and long tops and I think I see this old guy following us. Kind of creeped me out. So we left, didn't want any of the crap in that shop anyway and headed back. But then I see this guy again. He's on his mobile, but staring right at us. So I mentally take notes on what he looks like. Paranoid, I know, but I figured he was up to no good and we might need to describe him to the police or something. Black and yellow T-shirt, no logos or pictures, tallish, grey- brown hair. We got on the bus and we were talking about something, I don't remember, all the time I'm watching the door out of the corner of my eye, and sure enough, black and yellow guy is right behind us. Samia said something, I don't remember but I just totally freaked and next thing I know I've got myself kicked off the bus. Suddenly old guy remembers he gets off here too._

_It was freezing. That's the one thing I remember. I was alone except for old guy, in the dark wearing the stuff from the shopping trip. I've still got it somewhere. But now it's covered in blood._

Not one of her best. It sounded a little too much like a ghost story. But Caine seemed to believe her. Of course he did. Everyone thought they knew. Understood her. Owned a piece of Diana.

_Nobody realised I was blackmailing all the teachers until it was too late…_

_Of course, they knew it was me who had stolen the car…_

_I didn't __**make**__ her kill herself. It's just, well…_

Of course, none of them did. The real story went more like this…


End file.
